Nightmares lived
by DreamShadows
Summary: He looked into Dean's eyes and saw worry and concern etched there. He tried to answer his frantic call, and had just opened his mouth to speak when there was a loud creaking above them, and he knew that the ceiling was about to cave in... R
1. Emma

I have never written a Supernatural story before, so bear with me please!

I don't own Supernatural...

Voice in my head: Sure you do!

Me: No I don't... Be quiet Fred!

Voice: Fine, but this conversation is SO not over!

* * *

"_No!" He heard the voice scream, through his head. 'You can't shoot him, Sam, he's your brother!' But even as his thoughts screamed at him, Sam pulled the trigger. Nothing happened, and he pulled it again. Still nothing happened, frustrated he kept pulling the trigger until finally...

* * *

_

Sam sat bolt upright in bed, and gasped. His head was pounding, and he had to close his eyes against the glare of the early morning sun. Dean looked at him from the other bed, and concern showed in his eyes

"You okay Sammy?" Dean asked, and Sam looked at him, as if noticing him for the first time. "Sammy, your nose is bleeding." Dean said in concern and threw the blankets off himself, and got up. He headed for the bathroom, and Sam put a hand to his nose.

Sure enough when he pulled his hand back, there was blood on it. Dean came back out of the bathroom, carrying a towel, and handed it to Sam, who stuck it to his bleeding nose.

"Thanks," Sam muttered, and Dean looked back at him, concern still evident in his eyes, yet he nodded.

"What happened?" Dean asked as he started getting dressed.

"Nightmare," was Sam's only response.

"'Bout what?" Dean asked, lacing his boots up.

Sam looked at him, and then looked back down, removing the towel from his nose, which was no longer bleeding. "Nothing." He said, and Dean looked over at him.

Sam walked around, feeling his brother's eyes boring into him. He ignored the feeling, and grabbed clothes, walking into the bathroom.

As the door shut, Dean sighed. He knew that Sam had been dreaming about that night at the Asylum again, he could hear him mumbling in his sleep. Dean had tried to make him realize that what had happened that night hadn't been his fault. The nightmares had finally ended about a week ago, and then when they had met that traveler, they had started back up again.

Now Sam's nose was bleeding from the stress of the dreams... It couldn't be a good sign. As much as he hated them, he might have to take Sam to the hospital soon.

Sam walked out of the bathroom, and mumbled something like, "Gonna go get some breakfast," before he walked out the door. Dean sighed once again, and got up. He would call the doctor later, and then tell Sam. If he had to, he would sedate Sam, and carry him into the doctor's office if he had to.

* * *

Sam walked into the local store, and down the first isle. He grabbed a muffin off the shelf, and then thinking about it, grabbed another one for his brother. Down the next isle, he grabbed a bottle of aspirin, and grabbed a cup of coffee from the machine down the next.

"Hi Sam." A familiar voice said, and Sam looked up to find himself staring into the eyes of the traveler he had met the other day.

"Hi, um Emma, is it?" He asked, and she nodded. "Well, have a nice day." Sam said after an awkward minute of silence.

"Yeah, you too." She said, and walked away.

Sam paid for his things, and walked out of the store. He felt as if he was being watched, so he took a turn, and found himself walking down an alley. '_Shit!'_ He mentally cursed, but kept walking as if he knew what he was doing.

He took out his cell, and dialed Dean's number. He placed the phone to his ear, and waited for his brother to pick up. "Sam?" Came the voice over the phone.

"Dean, listen I think someone is following me." Sam said, his voice low.

"Where are you?" His brother asked, voice anxious.

"The alley, near the-" He was cut off, a groan ending his sentence as something hit him in the back of the head.

"Sammy!" He heard his brother's voice yell through the phone as he fell. That was the last thing he heard before darkness engulfed him.

* * *

"Sammy!" Dean yelled into the phone as he heard a groan from the other end of the phone.

"Your brother can't talk right now, he's a little tired." A female voice said, and Dean automatically recognized.

"Emma? What did you do to Sam!" Dean yelled into phone.

"That's for me to know, and you, well for you to wonder." Came the cryptic reply, and then the disconnected tone on the phone sounded as she hung up.

"Don't worry Sam, I'll find you." Dean muttered to himself. He grabbed his coat and headed out the door. He knew something was wrong with that girl when he had first met her, he just couldn't figure out what it was.

Getting in his Impala, Dean headed for the store where he knew Sam would have went. He pulled up outside the store five minutes later, and got out. Walking down the street, he saw the alley that Sam must have gone down, and walked down it.

There was a bag lying on the ground that had muffin's, and aspirin in it, and a broken coffee Styrofoam cup with coffee spilled all around it. Sam's cell phone lay closed on the ground next to the bag, and Dean picked it up. The phone was still warm, so he knew they hadn't gotten far.

Running down the alley, Dean turned at the end, and found himself facing a dead end.

There was a note at the end of the alley, and Dean grabbed it.

_Dean,_

_Let your brother's nightmares begin._

_Emma (Nightmare Demon)_

Dean cursed and crumpled the note, wondering how he was going to find out where Sam was. The Nightmare Demon would explain Sam's nosebleed after his nightmare this morning, Dean thought to himself.

"Awe crap! Psychics are more vulnerable to Nightmare Demons!" Dean said out loud. Fear for his brother was starting to double. He remembered that their dad had an article about the demons in his journal, and Missouri had told them that Sam was more vulnerable to them, because of the premonitions and his job; and Dean had let him get taken.

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Hope you liked, tell me what you think! 


	2. For all that you have done

Sorry for the long time with no write... but yeah my muse got mad at the voices in my head, so yeah... It took a while for me to convince her to come back.

The war is still raging between the voices in my head though, so please don't blame me for every bad thing that happens in this chapter... It may be one of them fighting for control...

Now onto the next chapter. And sorry in advance!

* * *

Sam woke to find himself chained to an old steel table. His head hurt, and he felt as if he should remember something about how he got here, but he couldn't. He heard the door to the room start to open, and tensed, the action sending shooting pains through his head. 

The door opened, and he found himself looking at Emma, the traveler he met on the road, and the previous days events all started to come back to him. Dean and the dream, the nosebleed, meeting Emma in the store, someone following him, calling Dean, being blugeoned in the back of the head with something.

'_Now I know why my head hurts so much... That bitch hit me... What the hell?'_

"Did you stalk and then hit me in the back of the head in an alley?" Sam asked emma incrediously.

"Maybe I did... Then again maybe Jess did, oh that's right, she can't, because you killed her didn't you?" Emma asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Is that what this is about? Jess? Because you should know that I didn't kill her... I went to our apartment, and she was on the cieling, her stomach slashed open, and bleeding. I tried to save her, but..." Sam said, and his voice drifted off, as he stared into space.

"Oh you may not have killed her by yourself, but your silence sure did. You knew what was going to happen, you could have stopped it from happening. But no, you didn't... You let her suffer and die. You never loved her. Now I'm going to make you pay." Emma said, menace filling her words.

Sam let the words sink in, let them fill his soul, he knew she was right. Bloody Mary had been right when she had made him relive his guilt about that night, but something didn't ring right in his mind.

"Who are you, and why do you care so much about Jess?" Sam asked, his voice full of suspicion.

"Me I'm Emma, Jess' sister, and the new Nightmare Demon. So get ready to live out your worst fears... Because they are about to come true. After what you did to my sister, you deserve all the pain that you get." Emma said, and walked over to him.

Emma walked around the steel table, and Sam struggled to try and free himself from the bindings that held him.Sam was held steady, the bindings steel, and strong. There was no way to get free from them without the key, and he had no idea where the key was. Of course if Dean could find him, there was also a chance at getting free, but Dean had no idea where he was, and there was no clue as to where to find him.

Sam was pulled from his thoughts as he felt a small, cold hand grip the side of his face. A blinding pain filled his mind, and his groaned. He looked to see Emma's eyes had turned black, and she was staring into his eyes. Images flashed through his head and the pain worsened.

* * *

_Jess loomed over him. Her stomach was slashed open, and her eyes looked at him, as if accusing him. Blood dripped onto his forehead, and flames erupted around her body. He screamed, "No!" Strong arms surrounded him and pulled him out.

* * *

Constance looks at him from the back seat, and says in an emotionless voice, "Take me home."_

_Sam looked at her, "No." He said, his voice firm. He hears the locks, and tries to open the door, but can't, the car starts on it's own, and drives down the road. "Don't do this." He says._

_"I can never go home," Is her only answer._

_"You're scared to go home," Sam says. He turns around to look at her, and doesn't see her, when he is turning around, he finds her sitting in the seat next to him._

_"Hold me, I'm so cold." Constance says._

_"You can't kill me, I'm not unfaithful. I've never been. " Sam says, and Constance straddles him._

_"You will be, just hold me." She starts kissing Sam as he tries to reach for the car keys, which are still in the ignition. Constance turns into a monster, and disappears, until her fingers start trying to reach through Sam's chest. Sam screams and rips open his jacket and we can see five finger holes going through his shirt. Finally gunshots come through the window, as Dean is on the other side shooting the monster. Dean's gunshots are distracting enough for Sam to turn the engine over, and put the car into gear._

_"I'm taking you home." Sam says and floors it._

_

* * *

_

_Mary goes into a different mirror. Sam sees her there out of the corner of his eye and smashes the mirror with the crowbar. She is in a different one now, and he sees her and smashes that mirror too. He is now back facing her mirror._

_"Come on. Come into this one." Sam says, holding the crowbar at the ready._

_Sam looks oddly at his reflection, which has now taken a mind of its own like Jill's. Sam starts having trouble breathing and has a trickle of blood coming out of his eye. He drops the crowbar and grabs his heart._

_"It's your fault. You killed her. You killed Jessica." His reflection says. Sam starts to fall to the floor, still holding his heart. "You never told her the truth—who you really were." Sam is now falling towards the ground. "But it's more than that, isn't it? Those nightmares you've been having of Jessica dying, screaming, burning—You had them for days before she died. Didn't you! You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die! You dreamt it would happen!"_

_

* * *

Sam stands over Dean the gun in his hand. He pulls the trigger but nothing happens, and he keeps pulling it over and over again, trying to kill his brother. He can't control his anger, and even when Dean wrestles the gun from him, and knocks him out, Sam knows the truth. He may not have killed his brother in real life, but he has in his heart._

_He knows that it's his fault. Everything is his fault. Jessica. Mom. Even Dean's life was on his hands, and his heart was broken, and torn. He knows that he's right, and it's tearing him apart._

_

* * *

_

Sam's mouth was open in a silent scream as pain ravaged his mind. Blood was pouring from his nose, and his eyes were open, and wild, filled with fear. Emma stood beside him, her hand still on the side of his head, a smile adorning her face.

She could feel his pain, and it gave her strength. She savored all the pain and fear that emenated from Sam. She let his head go, and he dropped limply to the table, his eyes closing. He wasn't dead, but she wanted to make sure that he stayed alive so she could feed off his emotions, his nightmares again.

It felt so good coming from Sam. He saw things that most people would never see, and his nightmares gave her more power than anyone elses ever had. The psychic energy that he had made it worth savoring, and he was paying for her sister's death too.

Emma looked to Sam. He was pale and limp on the steel table. There was blood running down his face from his nose, and his face was etched in pain. She almost felt bad for what she was doing to him. _Almost..._ She laughed and with one last look at Sam she turned and walked out of the room.

* * *

A/N: So what did you think? I don't know if I'm going to include Dean's search for Sam, or just have him show up... But... I will update when I get the chance. 

Thank you all for the reviews, I really appreciate them!


	3. So close yet so far away

Okay so sooner update than I thought... But I was really happy with the reviews!

* * *

Sam felt like he was floating and it would have felt nice, except for the fact that pain radiated through his head and it was getting harder to breathe. 

There was a feeling of detachment in Sam and it took a few minutes for him to figure out what had happened to make him feel the way that he did. Then things started to come into focus...

Emma...

Jess on the ceiling...

Bloody Mary...

Dean and the Asylum...

Constance...

It all came back to him in a blur, and it made his head hurt worse than it already did.

He knew that what the nightmares had told him were the truth. Everything was his fault. God his mom would still be alive if she hadn't had him, hadn't given birth to him. It was all his fault! It was his fault that Dean and him had grown up as hunters, his fault that the thing that had killed their mother had gone after Jess...

He opened his eyes and looked around. There was a knife on the table only feet away from him. He would have liked nothing better than to just end it all now, everything would be so much simpler without him.

Dean wouldn't have to worry about protecting him, so he wouldn't get hurt as much. Dad wouldn't have to worry about their arguments and if Sam would do anything stupid. Their lives would be so much easier if he could only reach that knife.

He heard heels clicking on the cement as someone entered the room, and looked up to see Emma studying him. She laughed when she saw him looking longingly at the knife.

"Oh no, you aren't getting off that easily. You deserve to pay for what you have done to everyone." Emma said, her voice serious and maniacal.

"I know." His voice was low and if she hadn't been listening hard for his answer she wouldn't have heard the two softly said words. His answer surprised her. She hadn't thought that it would be this easy to break him, but then again he had already sewn the doubt about himself in his own mind, so all she had to do was water the seeds a little bit.

"Finally accepted it then." Emma said, her statement more of a rhetorical question, than an actual statement.

"I already knew it, but it would have hurt Dean too much if I had left him." Sam said, his voice choked, and he added, "But I would be more trouble alive to him now, just let me end it," in almost a pleading tone.

Emma smirked, and shook her head. "Not just yet... Oh be assured it will be soon, and big brother won't be able to save you this time, but you need to feel what she felt before I let you die, and give you peace." Emma said, and walked over to the knife.

Emma picked up the knife and almost subconsciously turned it in her hands studying it. Sam watched as the blade glinted in the harsh light that flooded the room, from the light above his head. She walked to him, and ran the knife under his shirt, cutting the fabric away, leaving him only clothed in his jeans.

"Feel what she felt because of you!" Emma screamed, and plunged the knife into Sam's abdomen. He let out a strangled yell, and she twisted.

There was a loud crack behind them, and Sam's head snapped in the direction of the noise. The action pulled on his stomach trying to twist around, and it was all he could do not to scream as the knife moved in him, slicing open his flesh and organs.

He almost fainted when he saw what was standing there. Only one word left his mouth, and Emma snapped her head in the direction of the sound, "Jess?" His voice was low, barely more than a whisper, but the spirit of Jess looked at him and smiled warmly.

Her flowing blond hair almost stood on end and her brown eyes turned a shade of obsidian, and she turned to face her sister. "How could you Emma!" She yelled and Emma visibly winced, the motion jarring the knife in Sam's stomach, and he finally cried out, the pain to intense to handle. Sweat was starting to pour down his face, and he looked at the knife in his stomach, pulling against the chains to try and get it out.

Emma faced her sister who looked furious. She pulled out a lighter, and whispered, "Sorry Jess." She lit the lighter and dropped it to the now gasoline drenched floor. Sam looked around and for the first time saw the wood on the floor and piled around him.

Jess' spirit flew at her sister, and right through her, grabbing at something. Emma dropped to the ground, her eyes and mouth still open, yet she was obviously dead. Sam felt a presence next to him, and looked up.

Jess stood there, looking at him, and said softly, "Don't give up." Sam shook his head, and looked at her sadly.

"Yo don't get it, I deserve this. It was my fault that you died. It was my fault that mom died, hell it's my fault that Dean, dad and I are hunters. All the pain that I get, I deserve it." Sam said, his voice and face sincere. Pain rippled through him as his body tensed, the knife still in him, and Sam bit his lip trying not to scream.

"You didn't kill me, it's not your fault." Jess said softly, and ran her hand down Sam's cheek. She kissed his lips softly, only a ghost of a kiss but it was enough for Sam. "I'm going to get Dean, he is really close." Jess said to him, and he could feel the flames licking at his skin.

"No!" He yelled. "Don't tell him where I am, you can't let him get hurt." Sam said, but it was no use, she was already gone.

Sam felt the heat rise, and watched as Jesse left, grateful that she wasn't there to watch him die. Thoughts of being with his mom and Jess again filled his mind. A small smile cameto his face, but soon turned into a grimace as the pain in his stomach worsened.

It was getting harder to breathe through all the smoke, and Sam was getting weaker from the loss of blood. He faintly heard the door open, and his brother yelling for him, but he couldn't answer the frantic calls. He could do nothing to answer his brother, with the chains restraining his arms and legs, not to mention the knife that was still embedded in his stomach.

"Sammy!" He heard Dean yell and turned his head as he felt a hand on his arm. He looked into Dean's eyes and saw worry and concern etched there. He tried to answer his frantic call, and had just opened his mouth to speak when there was a loud creaking above them, and he knew that the ceiling was about to cave in...

* * *

A/N: So I hope that yah'all enjoyed this chapter... Please review that is the only reason that I keep writing.


	4. Too late, so wrong, so long

Okay so with my loaded up homework I am doing the best that I can to update as soon as I get the chance!

So thank you all for your great reviews they are the only reason that I write...

* * *

Sam looked up, and then back to his brother who looked up as well, and saw the cracks in the ceiling. Sam pulled at the restraints, but his strength was dwindling from the loss of blood.

Dean was spurred into action as he saw his brother's feeble attempts to free himself. He bent down to Emma, and started to search her for the keys. "Dean, get out of here!" Sam yelled over the creaking as the flames licked at his skin. His wrists were raw from trying to free himself, and he was starting to feel light headed.

"No, I won't leave you Sam. The cops are outside, I had a feeling I would need help, so I called them, just let me help you for once. Just let me be your big brother." Dean said, and looked up from his searching, a pleading look in his eyes.

"I can't let you die for me," Sam said, his voice barely a whisper, and Dean didn't catch it as he pulled the key free from one of the pockets of Emma's jeans.

Dean moved over to Sam, and freed his legs first, and then his right wrist. Just as he was about to unlock Sam's other wrist, the creaking got louder, and Sam said softly, "I love you Dean."

He saw his brother's eyes full of fear and love, and before he had the chance to tell him how he felt back, Sam made his move. He used his free hand and all the strength that he had to push Dean as far as he could before the roof collapsed.

Sam threw himself off the table, and ducked under it the best that he could, but since his arm was still locked to it, it didn't work too well. A piece of the ceiling smashed into the wrist that was still chained, and Sam felt it shatter. A scream ripped itself from Sam's throat, and he felt another piece of ceiling land on his stomach, and knock the knife and the wind out of him.

A piece of wood from the ceiling supports hit Sam in the head, and the last thing he found himself thinking as the blackness closed in on him was; "I hope Dean's alright.'

* * *

Dean let out a surprised yelp as he felt Sam push him. He heard the loud creak, and watched as Sam threw himself from the table. A piece of the ceiling hit him as he fell to the floor, and Dean watched in horror as his brother's wrists shattered.

He was about to get up from his place on the floor and run to his brother, when a piece of the support beams landed on his stomach. The air left his lungs in a '_whoosh', _and Dean pushed at the beam as a piece of the ceiling landed on Sam's already injured stomach. He kept pushing, and his movements strengthened as he watched a beam fall and hit Sam on the head.

"Sammy!" He yelled out, and pushed his hardest to get the beam off of him.

Sam's head lolled to the side, and Dean gasped as he saw the gash running down the side of his brother's face. Dean gave a heave, and finally got the beam to lift off himself enough to pull out from under it.

Dean scrambled to get to his brother's side, and checked his pulse. It was faint but it was still there. He worked on lifting the debris from Sam, and then pulled the key from his pocket, and very carefully unlocked Sam's shattered wrist. It almost made him sick to look at Sam, all the injuries on his baby brother.

He shoved the thoughts aside, and told himself that Sam needed him, and that he wasn't doing him any good but sitting there and contemplating their life story. He looked around, and saw that their way out was blocked.

Dean took off his shirt, and tore it into strips with the help of his pocket knife. He then took the strips, and wrapped them around Sam's stomach to try and stem the flow of blood. He then went over to where the doorway had been, and started moving debris away from it.

The fire had gone out from the falling pieces hitting it, and for that Dean was grateful, it was one less thing to worry about. Sam was hurt and hurt badly. Dean knew that if he didn't get his baby brother help soon, Sammy was going to die, and that was not an option that Dean was willing to accept.

Dean worked for about an hour before he heard the people on the other side digging too, and the pain in his ribs from the beam falling on him was starting to overwhelm him. He crawled over to Sam, and checked his pulse, his breathing, and if the blood flow had slowed.

Sam's breaths were coming in short gasps, that sounded as if he were trying to pull air past an air-tight barricade. His pulse was thready and faint. The blood had slowed some, but it was still coming and that worried Dean.

His brother was dying, and Dean could do nothing to help him until medical help came.

Dean went over and started digging again, but it wasn't long before the pain in his ribs was too much, and he had to stop. He went over to Sam and pulled him into his arms, his brother's head lolling onto his shoulder limply.

He could hear the workers on the other side, and looked back down to his brother's limp form. "I love you too Sam, and I would have given my life for you." Dean whispered. His brother had thought that Dean hadn't heard him, but he had heard every word that Sam had said, and they were having a major talk when this was over about Sam's self esteem.

Sammy_would,_ make it out of this alive.

Dean was too busy thinking about Sam, that he didn't notice the piece of debris falling. It hit him on the back of the head, and he groaned before letting the darkness consume him.

'_It's too bad, it's stupid,_

_Too late, so wrong, so long,_

_It's too bad we had no time to rewind.'_

_-Too Bad, By Nickelback

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_

A/N: So what did you all think?

By the way if anyone is interested in being a beta for this story, please tell me so in your review.

Do review or there will be no new chapter.


	5. Will he?

Hey guys, I checked the reviews and I'm like Oh my gosh! This can't be my story... I can't believe there was fifteen of them!

Anyway I figured that you guys deserved a new chapter so I sent one to my beta and she got it back to me ASAP so I have to thank her for that! Thank you so much, **tricksters apprentice**! You did a great job!

* * *

Dean woke to a pounding head, and looked down to see Sam in the same position that he had been earlier. Not much time could have passed, because they were still in the building, and the police still hadn't broken through the rubble. 

There was a few more shifts in the rubble that was blocking the door, and Dean sent hopeful glances in it's direction. Sam was still unconscious and his condition was worsening by the second. He was still losing blood, and he probably had a concussion from the hit to his head.

Dean shifted Sam and gasped as a wave of pain ran through his ribs. Not such a good idea to move then. Dean chuckled as the thought entered his mind.

Sam shifted, and opened his eyes a little. "Sammy, can you hear me?" Dean asked, his voice full of concern as he saw his brother's eyes. They were dull and glazed, none of the usual life in them.

"It's Sam..." Sam said, his voice hoarse, and barely high enough for Dean to hear, but he did and laughed to himself.

"You are a stubborn bastard Sam. Dying yet still denying your brother the chance to act like he cares. Which I do, _Sammy_." Dean said, and Sam laughed a little, but it turned into rough coughing.

"No laughing..." Sam said in between coughs, and Dean nodded, rubbing his back in circles, trying to help his brother get his breathing under control.

"Take a deep breath Sam. Slow deep breaths, we'll be out of here soon, and get you taken care of." Dean said, his voice naturally soothing as he tended to his brother.

Sam's coughing eased, but his breathing was still labored, and Dean pulled him against his chest. Sam leaned into the embrace, fitting into the crook of Dean's arm. Dean felt as Sam's weight rested fully on him, but knew that his brother was still awake, and for that he was grateful.

"Hey Dean?" Sam asked, and Dean almost jumped at his voice.

"Yeah Sammy?"

"Don't let me fall asleep, please?" Sam asked, his voice almost pleading.

"Yeah sure, but why?" Dean asked, confused as to why his brother would ask him to do such a thing, if anything Dean would have wanted to sleep even just to get away from the pain, if he were in Sam's condition.

"Afraid I won't wake up if I do." Sam said softly, and Dean had to strain to hear it. He reached up and ran his hand through Sam's hair in a soothing gesture.

"Sammy, we're Winchesters, a stab wound and a falling ceiling won't kill us." Dean said, and mentally added, '_I hope.'_

"I know, but still..." Sam's voice trailed off, and Dean knew what his little brother meant, because he felt the same way. He was afraid to let Sam go to sleep. He was afraid that if he did, he would never see Sam's dark eyes again, never be able to tease him, never be able to hunt with him.

'_God Sam! Why is it always you? You're not even twenty three.'_ Dean asked himself and wished he knew the answer. Wished he knew why he was always failing to protect Sam.

Sam felt someone grab his hand and looked up. Jess was there, so was Mom. He smiled at her, and wondered if Dean could see them.

"Do you see them?" He whispered softly.

Dean looked up, and although he couldn't see anyone, he knew who Sammy was talking about. A tear ran down his cheek as he thought about how far gone Sam was, and that his little brother might not make it out of there alive if help didn't get to them soon.

"Yeah Sammy." Dean said, his voice low and choked, and Sam's smile widened.

Sam heard his brother, and could tell something was off about him, but right now it didn't matter. His mom and Jess were there!

"I love you Sam." His mom told him as she picked up his other hand. Her touch was soothing and oddly warm. He couldn't feel the pain anymore, and he was getting cold. He unconsciously shivered in Dean's hold, and Dean tightened his arms around him.

"I love you too, mom." He whispered back, and she smiled at him.

"Tell Dean I love him too Sam." His mother said, and Sam looked at her quizzically.

"Why don't you tell him, he's here too." Sam said, confusion laced through his low voice.

"Because Sam, he can't hear us." His mom said, and when Sam gave her a questioning look, she said, "Sam you're dying, but you need to fight it. Dean needs you, and so does your father. Even if he is stubborn like you, he needs you, they both do." Her voice was comforting, and Sam nodded.

Sam looked up at Dean who had a tear running down his cheek. "Dean, mom says she loves you." He said softly, his voice slurring. Sam looked at Jess, and smiled when he heard Dean's reply.

"I love you too mom." Dean said quietly, and Sam saw his mother smile.

"I miss you and love you Sam. We will be together again some day, but today is not that day, fight for your life Sam." Jess said softly and kissed him on the lips, a lingering caress, before she disappeared.

"I miss you and love you too Sam, now go and stay with your brother. I will always be with you, remember that." His mom told him, and she kissed him on the forehead before disappearing.

There was a loud crash, and then a yelled voice, "Are you guys okay in there?"

"We need medical attention really bad, my brother is dying!" Dean yelled back as Sam turned to look at the doorway where there was now a hole through the rubble, and people were preparing to come through.

Paramedics with a stretcher came through first, and went straight over to Sam and Dean. Two people started working on Sam, and secured him to the stretcher, while one went to Dean and started checking on him.

"Can you walk, sir?" The paramedic asked.

"I think so." Dean answered and slowly got to his feet with the help of the paramedic. He followed Sam out who was on a stretcher being carried by the two paramedics. The man who was helping him, put Dean's arm around his shoulder, while Dean held his other hand protectively over his ribcage.

"Is he going to be okay?" Dean asked once he was sitting in the ambulance beside Sam.

"I don't know, but we will do everything possible to make sure that he is." One of the paramedics working on Sam said.

A few minutes later as they were driving, a shrill beep filled the air, and Dean's head snapped to Sam.

"Get the paddles!" He heard one of the paramedics yelled. They shocked Sam, and there was no response. He was shocked again, and the same thing.

The paramedics placed the paddles on Sam's chest again. His back arched up from the shock, and...

* * *

A/N: So what did you all think! RememberI won't add a new chapter unless you tell me what you think... so keep up the reviews! 

Luv Yah! Thank you all so much!

Ana


	6. Dad, I need your help

I have been so overwhelmed by reviews and I cannot stress how helpful tricksters apprentice is for being my beta!

Thank you so much all of you, and a special thanx for my beta!

By the way they thought the ending of this chapter was so mean... Told me she fainted!

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Dean watched, holding his breath as Sam's body lurched off the stretcher. There was a moment when he thought that Sam was gone, that he would never talk to his brother again, but then the beep of the heart monitor started to go in a steady rhythm again, and Dean let the breath that he had been holding, out. 

An oxygen mask was placed over Sam's mouth and nose, and a blood pressure cuff was secured around his upper arm. An Iv was inserted into the back of Sam's uninjured hand, and a transfuse of blood was started. His blood pressure was really low to begin with, and stayed low even with the blood being pumped into him, his stomach now bleeding again from the shocks of the crash cart to start his heart beating again.

The ambulance stopped, and Sam was pulled out, while Dean was helped to walk into the ER by the paramedic that had helped him at the building. Sam was taken immediately to the OR for emergency surgery, while Dean was given a room in the ER.

A few minutes later, a tall, blond woman walked in, but Dean, so caught up in his thoughts, didn't even notice her. It wasn't until the woman touched Dean's arm to take his pulse and blood pressure did Dean look up at her.

"I Doctor Melinda Evans." She said, he tone gentle and soothing to him. She smiled at him, and Dean tried to smile back at her, but it came out lopsided.

"Dean Winchester," Dean said, no hesitation in his voice, though he knew that he probably shouldn't have told her his last name, he couldn't stop himself. He finally looked her over, and was awed that he hadn't noticed sooner how beautiful she was.

Melinda Evans was about five foot eight inches tall, with long, sun bleached, curly blond hair; reaching to the small of her back. Her eyes were a warm hazel. Rings of green, gray and blue outlined an explosion of brown in her soulful, expressive gaze. She was very slim, and couldn't have been older than Dean. Glasses were pushed up in her hair, holding the unruly curls back, and it was all Dean could do not to reach out and run his hands through her hair.

'_Stop it Dean! Sammy's hurt and possibly dying and you're thinking about sex?' _Dean scolded himself.

"That's a nice name," Melinda said, now probing his ribs to check out the damage to them. "The man that you came in with, what's his name?" she asked, her voice full of concentration, as Dean tried and failed to hide a wince. The wince was caused by the pain in his ribs, and the mention of his brother.

"Sammy?" He asked his voice quiet, and withdrawn. "Samuel Winchester. He's my little brother," Dean said, and gasped as she pressed his ribs a little too hard, and pain raced through his side like a bolt of lightning.

"Sorry about that. I didn't mean to hurt you," she said as she looked up.

Dr. Melinda Evans was impressed by the man that she saw before her. He was about six feet tall, and had a muscular build that most men would kill for. His hair was short, and spiked to the front a little bit. His dark brown eyes were expressive, almost to the point of being overwhelming. There was an outline of light brown around streaks of dark chestnut in his eyes, and it was all she could do not to become entranced in his gaze.

She looked away quickly and scolded herself. '_The man is hurt, and worried about his brother, and all you can think about is what it would feel like to be with him!'_ A blush crept up her cheeks, and she looked down at her notes. Writing down that he would need x-rays, she went on with her examination.

"Do you feel lightheaded? Dizzy? Nauseous?" she asked Dean as she gently placed her fingers over the cut on his forehead.

"How 'bout a tantalizing combo of the three?" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"It looks like you have a mild concussion, and I want to get some x-rays on your ribs, because I think a few of them are broken," she said, and gave him a light smile. "Why don't I see if I can get you something for the pain?" she asked, and couldn't miss the grateful look that crossed his face even if it was only for a second.

"That would be great, thanks," Dean answered, his voice full of relief, but she knew that he still had the weight of the world on his shoulders with the worry for his brother.

"Sure, I'll be right back. Make yourself comfortable. You'll be here for a while, I'll have to call down to x-ray and get it set up for you," she said, and with a smile she walked out of the room, leaving Dean to brood over his thoughts.

Dean closed his eyes, and before he knew it, he was asleep. He didn't hear it when Melinda came back into the room, and left him two pain pills, with prescription next to it. There was also a sheet of paper with her name and number, telling him to give her a call if her felt like going out when everything was cleared up.

Dean was awoken when a nurse came down to wheel him to x-ray a half hour later, and smiled when he saw the note, quickly folding it and sticking it in his pocket. He took the pills with some water, and stuck the prescription in his other pocket to make sure he wouldn't lose it. The nurse smiled at him as he got into the wheelchair. He grumbled.

* * *

An hour later Dean had his ribs wrapped, and was being discharged, but he had no intention of leaving while Sam was still in the hospital. The doctors hadn't told him anything yet, and it was beginning to be too much for him to handle. He reached in his back pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Hitting the number he put the phone to his ear and waited. 

"Hello?" came the gruff voice on the other end.

"Dad?" he asked, surprised that the man had picked up. His voice shook as he had said the name.

"Dean?" The man on the other end asked. "What's wrong son?" The man asked, and Dean almost broke down then and there.

"Dad, it's Sam, we're at the hospital," Dean said, and his voice choked.

"What's wrong with him Dean?" his father asked, and his voice was filled with concern.

"He was stabbed, and then the ceiling... it fell, and..." Dean's voice choked again, but he forced himself to continue. "Dad, they don't know if he's going to make it," Dean said, and it was all he could do to hold back tears that were threatening to fall. "I don't know what to do Dad, I need your help," Dean whispered, but his father heard.

"I'll be there as soon as I can, just tell me where you are," his father said, his tone soothing, and Dean told him where they were. Dean was about to hang up, and was in the middle of saying good-bye to his father when he saw Sam's doctor walking down the hall toward him

"Dean, what's wrong?" he heard his father ask from the other end of the phone, but he didn't answer, he couldn't. The doctor's shoulders were slumped, and Dean knew that he couldn't have good news.

"Family of Samuel Winchester?" the doctor asked, looking at Dean.

"Yeah, I'm his brother," Dean said, and the doctor nodded.

"We did all that we could, and I'm sorry..." the doctor started and both father and son felt the impact of the next words...

TBC

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So did I kill him? OR what? 

You will have to review to find out, because that is my only reason for posting new chapters!

And yes I know I am evil I have already been told so by my beta... Though she was more like... "I am going to faint! I can't believe you did that... You killed him didn't you?"

And I am like... "I will never tell unless there are enough reviews for me to continue!" So push the gay button to the left of the screen! Push it, and see a new chapter appear soon!

Ana


	7. Please, you have to wake up!

I went to bed last night happy that my story was doing so well and when I woke up this morning and checked the reviews I almost passed out. 22 Reviews is enough to make any writer want to jump up and down with joy! Thank you guys so much, and a special thanks to tricksters apprentice for her great beta-ing of this story!

Here is the next chapter... Hope you all like it!

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"We did all that we could, and I'm sorry..." the doctor started and both father and son felt the impact of the next words... "But Sam has lapsed into a coma, and shows little signs of waking up." The man looked sorrowful, and for a minute Dean didn't know if he should be devastated that his brother may not wake up, or relieved that Sam wasn't dead.

"Thank you for telling me... Dr?" Dean asked, his voice unsteady.

"Dr. Jesse MacGlashing," the man said, and Dean nodded.

"When can I see Sam?" Dean asked, and Jesse could tell that everything that was happening was taking a toll on Dean, but being away from his brother was doing the most damage.

"He is being moved to a room in the ICU right now, you can see him right now, and stay with him as long as you like. Sometimes it helps patients to hear someone they know talk to them," Dr. MacGlashing said, and Dean nodded, indicating for the doctor to show him the way.

Dean put the phone back up to his ear, and told his dad that he would see him soon, and John told him that he would be there as fast as he could. Dr. MacGlashing just faced forward, but could hear the break in Dean's voice as he talked to his father.

Jesse stopped in front of a room in the ICU, and told Dean that he could go in. When the doctor started to walk away, Dean grabbed his arm, and said, "When my dad, John Winchester, shows up, can you send him here?" When the doctor nodded, Dean sighed. "Thank you, for everything." Dean said as he turned away, and walked into the room.

Sam was laying in the middle of a bed that looked over size when Sam looked so fragile, small, and broken. There was a tube going down Sam's throat, helping him to breathe, and tubes and wires ran everywhere, over his brother's pale body.

Wires ran under the neckline of Sam's hospital gown, There were two IV's in his right hand, the one that was uninjured from the ceiling collapse, one was transfusing blood, and the other was pumping antibiotics, and painkillers into Sam's prone body.

"Hey Sammy," Dean said as he pulled up a chair and sat beside his brother's bed, taking his hand. "You need to wake up and tell me that it's _Sam,_ little brother, you are way too quiet at the moment." Dean laughed a little at the irony of his little brother who was strong, and usually fought off the monsters, protecting the weak; now lying here, being one of the victims himself.

"Dad's coming, he wants to see you, so you need to wake up, and tell him how you feel when he gets here." Dean looked helplessly at the limp hand that was in his own, and decided that he may as well tell Sam what he had been too afraid to while he was awake.

"Sam you mat not know it, and I know I don't say it often enough, but I do love you, and so does dad. Traveling with you has been the best experience of my life. Knowing that you were always there to watch my back, and that you trusted me enough to watch yours was a great feeling. God, you're making me go all chick flick moment, and for that I hate you Sammy." Dean said, a tear trickling down his cheek, as he sobbed a laugh.

"All those things that you thought were your fault aren't Sam. You help too many people than you should, and take on too much responsibility for any person to handle. You really are one of a kind and no one could ever replace you. I mean even having your 'Shining' thing isn't what makes you special, it's your ability to stand up to dad, to defend people who are too weak to defend themselves. Hell, it's your blatant knowing when I need you, and when you need to quit at things, or never give them up." Dean's voice choked, and he gripped his brother's hand tighter.

Dean leaned his head back, content to just watch his brother, and make sure that nothing else would go wrong. "Please Sammy, just wake up." Dean said, and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep, not feeling or seeing the person who was standing in the doorway, and had seen the whole thing.

* * *

John Winchester watched as his eldest son tried his hardest to help his youngest. He had seen Dean let go of everything, and tell Sam exactly how he felt, and had watched as Dean slowly broke down, the state of his brother being too much for him to handle.

The sight before John was almost too much for him to take, and he didn't know how Dean had stayed together for so long. Sam was pale, too pale, and there was a tube helping him breathe, because he couldn't do the simple action on his own.

It was his fault that Sam was here. If he had found the boys, and come to them when the had gone back to Lawrence, none of this would have happened. Missouri had told him that his sons had needed him, but he hadn't gone to them, hadn't been there when they needed him. He hadn't been there when Sam had needed him after Jess' death.

John had gone to the funeral, and had watched from behind the cover of trees as Sam had placed a rose on Jess' casket. He had watched Sam cry over the loss, the first time that he had cried since he was seven from a scrape with a Wendigo. He had watched as Sam had to be led away after the funeral by Dean, who had put his arm around Sam's shoulders, and coaxed him to leave.

John walked over to the bedside, and gently moved some stray hair of Sam's off his forehead. His hair was stubborn just like the man it belonged to, and sprang right back into the same place, and John sighed exasperated, yet amused.

Seeing Sam weak and vulnerable like he was; was almost enough to break John, and he had been slowly cracking as the hunt for Mary's murderer was slowly growing cold. Father's weren't supposed to outlive their sons, and it looked as if that might happen. John was determined not to let Sam die, and there was nothing that was going to deter him from his determination.

John walked over to Dean, and put his hand on his son's shoulder, gently shaking him awake. When Dean looked up, he almost jumped. John smiled, and told himself that he was going to have to have Dean hone up on his sensing skills. Dean stood, and did something that he hadn't done in years, he hugged his father, tightly.

"Dad, I can't lose him." Dean sobbed, and almost started crying. John held his son as his shoulders shook, understanding that Dean needed this right now. Dean hadn't done anything this emotional since Mary's death, and it didn't surprise John that it was only Sammy, besides his mother, that could bring out this side in him.

"I know you can't Dean, and we won't. Sammy is going to pull through, and you two will be at each other's throats again about your choice in music or girls again in no time," John said, and felt his son laugh, before Dean pulled away, and immediately withdrew into his strong shell again.

"Sorry about that," Dean said, his voice and face showing his self consciousness and embarrassment.

"Don't be, we all have our moments," John said, and looked over to Sam again, his face still pale, and his body unmoved, but something felt different about him. He looked at the monitor, and saw that his brain activity level had gone up a little since Dean had started talking to him.

He was about to say something to Dean about the change, when the door banged open. In the doorway stood, Emma; her face set into a scowl.

TBC

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So what do you think? Am I evil for bringing her back?

But I think you're happy that Sam isn't dead... right?

So what did you think? Thank you all again for all the reviews. They are the only reason that I write!

R&R!

Ana


	8. Thought she was dead

I know you are all probably pissed off at me right now, but I wanted the weekend off to spend with my friends and family, so deal with it! I'm not that mean... really I didn't mean that, it was Fred's fault, the voices in my head are taking over!

I really appreciate the reviews, so please keep them up!

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Dean's look changed from one of concern to one of menace in a matter of seconds when he saw Emma scowling at him from the door way of Sam's hospital room.

"You're supposed to be dead, Jess told me that she killed you!" Dean yelled at Emma as he stood up, and unconsciously positioned himself in front of Sam. John did the same thing and stood side by side with Dean, protecting the youngest oif his sons.

"You didn't think that you could kill a Nightmare Demon so easily, did you?" Emma asked, and Dean looked at her as if to say, 'well duh, I thought you could.' Emma laughed at him, "Man you are stupid." She said, and Dean scowled at her.

"Pardon my asking, but who are you, and what do you want with my son?" John asked, only having just gotten to the hospital, Dean hadn't had the chance to tell him who Emma was yet, or even the full story on what had happened to Dean.

"I am Emma, sister of Jess, and the Nightmare Demon who is avenging her death." Emma said, and Dean laughed.

"Oh quit the sob story!" Dean ground out. "You are no more avenging her death, than I am Capitan Jack Sparrow." Dean said, immitating Johnny Depp from 'Pirates of the Carribean.' "Even Jess knows that it wasn't Sam's fault that she died, and she tried to kill you earlier for hurting him, so I know the truth, she knows the truth, and Dad knows the truth, the question is, are you still dumb enough to think that Sam killed your sister?" Dean asked, and John had to bite his lips to keep the laughs from escaping.

"How dare you try to say that your brother didn't kill my sister!" Emma screamed, and Dean felt a movement on the bed, turning to look at Sam, he saw his brother's eyes open. Dean looked at his father, and it was as if a secret message was passed, because John nodded his head, and Dean walked around the bed to Sam.

Dean carefully pulled the tube from Sam's throat, as his dad stood in a protective position in front of both Sam and Dean. "Thought she was dead..." Sam rasped as soon as Dean had given him some water.

"You're not the only one." Dean said, groaning and Sam laughed.

Sam gasped, and Dean looked at him. He looked back to Emma, and saw her eyes start to turn black. Looking back to Sam, Dean saw his eyes tint to black too, and groaned.

It was Dean's voice that spoke from Emma's body when she said, "It's your fault that mom died. It's your fault that we have to hunt every day of our lives." Dean wanted to run and tackle her, but he was held in place by an invisible force.

It was John's voice that came next, and both Dean and John fought to free themselves as they heard what she told Sam. "It's your fault that Mary is dead, that all those things happened twenty two years ago. It's your fault that your girlfriend is dead, if you hadn't left for Stanford you would never have met her, never have brought your problems to her."

Sam trembled on the bed, and moved his hands as if trying to hurt Emma, but it wasn't working. "If you hadn't been born, nothing bad would have happened, everyone would still be alive, and Dean and dad wouldn't be hunters, having to live their lives in fear." Sam gasped, and blood poured from his nose. It had been his voice that Emma had used that time, and it had been what Sam had really felt.

Sam's hands moved, and though he faintly heard the voices of his father and Dean in the background, they were hazy, and sounded almost monotone. His hands moved in front of his body, crossed over each other, and when he flung them out, Dean and John felt the invisible presence leave, and Emma went flying across the hall.

The connection was broken between Sam and Emma, and Sam looked drained, the blood still pouring from his nose. Dean ran over to him, and cast him a, '_what the hell was that',_look, and Sam shrugged. He looked up, and for the first time saw his father standing there, looking stunned at Sam.

"Dad?" He asked, his voice weak and coarse.

"It's me, son. I am so sorry Sammy. I should have been there for you." John said, and Sam shifted uncomfortably. The shaking started small, and it could have been passed off as trembling, if the tears hadn't ran down Sam's cheeks.

John went over and hugged him, whispering to him in a hushed comforting tone. "It's okay Sammy, it's not your fault, none of it was, you can't listen to anything that Bitch was saying, she is just jealous of you, and our 'family relationship.'" John said, and Sam laughed, a loud sniff filling the air.

Sam wiped his eyes, and whispered, "I'm sorry." John just shook his head, and smiled at his youngest son sadly.

Before he could say anything, there was a loud crash, and they all looked up. Jess and Mary were floating there in front of them, and Emma stood her ground in the doorway.

"Stay away from my family!" Mary and Jess yelled at the same time, before both of them launched themselves at Emma.

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A/N: I know it was kind of chick flick there for a few minutes, but there won't be another one for a while longer, I hope!

Please review, and I will write.

Ana


	9. Awake yet still so far away

Hey, sorry it's been so long, but I had homework and driving courses and things like that. Thank you all for the reviews I really appreciate them!

Here's the next chapter!

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John stared at Mary, an unreadable look on his face. He hadn't seen her for twenty two years, hadn't been there when she had saved Sam and Dean. It was almost too much to see her now, and he didn't know what to do as she floated beside, what must have been Jess. 

They looked alike, almost like sisters, and he could see why Sam had loved Jess. Even if his son didn't know it, or didn't remember their mother, a part of Sam saw Mary in Jess.

Mary and Jess flew straight towards Emma, aiming for her midsection. They knew that she couldn't really be alive after what Jess had done to her back in the warehouse. She was a wraith of a Nightmare Demon now, and could still be sent to hell!

As soon as Mary and Jess flew forward, Sam's eyes went black again, and Emma was lifted into the air, while Jess and Mary went right into her. Emma screamed, and combusted; and Sam gasped, his eyes shooting open, and the black starting to fade.

Jess and Mary faded, and John looked up, as if just noticing what Sam had done to save them all. Dean was at his brother's side, trying to take care of him as he shook. Sam had sweat on his brow, and the tremors that shook his body told John that he had a high fever, and though he was awake, he wasn't out of the woods yet.

John ran out into the hall, and yelled for help, all the while wondering why someone hadn't come sooner, when Sam's vital signs had gone up. He went back into the room, and walked straight over to Sam. Putting his hand against his youngest son's forehead, he felt the heat radiating off of his skin.

"Sammy?" his father asked, turning Sam's head to look at him. Sam's eyes were glazed and unfocussed, the usual bright eyes, now dull, and faded.

Sam tried to focus on the voice that seemed to be coming from far off, but couldn't quite manage it. He felt pressure gripping his chin, and his head being turned. There was a blurry figure standing in front of him, and he thought that it looked vaguely like his father.

...Then there were other voices, and more blurry figures that he didn't recognize coming into the room.

He didn't know where he was, but figured that from the incessant beeping that came from his right; that he was in the hospital. The last thing that he remembered was talking to Jess and his mom, while asking Dean if he could see them too. That seemed so far off though, and he wondered just how long it had been.

"Sammy?" he heard the voice of his brother call, and he tried to turn his head towards the voice, but it felt as if he had been weighed down. Everything was heavy, and it was hard to move. His head hurt, and his arm felt funny, and strangely immobile. He remembered feeling the bone break, but not much after that.

There were spurts of memory, and lights. Bursts of pain and moving, but he didn't really remember that much. He remembered hearing Dean's voice as he tried to fight his way out of the darkness that had consumed him, trying to tell him that he was fighting to get out of the dark, and that he loved him too.

"Dean?" His voice was weak and scratchy, and he heard other voices around him, voices that he didn't recognize.

There was a pressure on his hand, and he knew that it was Dean. A tear came to his eye when he realized that Dean was putting his macho posture away, and being there for Sam. Dean never would have held his hadn if he hadn't been hurt.

"I'm hear Sammy, it's going to be okay, just relax, and stay with us okay?" Dean's voice was soothing, and his vision was starting to clear. He felt the prick in his arm as a needle entered his skin, and blinked, trying to focus on his brother.

"Trying," Sam managed to ground out, as he saw the other people start to move away from the bed. There was another squeeze on his hand, and he saw Dean move away, before his father moved to where his brother had been standing.

His father picked up his hand and he tried to squeeze it hard, but could only manage a light presure on the hand that was now holding his own. "Dad?" he asked, his voice full of hope, and confusion.

"I'm here Sammy," the man said, and Sam's lips quirked upward.

"Missed you," Sam said, his voice getting low, and the edges of his vision starting to darken.

"I missed you too, Sammy." John said, his voice low, and soothing as he watched his son drift to sleep. He looked peaceful, and John couldn't remember the last time that Sam had looked peaceful, even in his sleep. The last time he remembered seeing Sam look like that was when he was little.

A seven year old Sam had had a nightmare, and had run straight to Dean's room. He knew that his eleven year old brother could protect him, and that he would be safe with him. He had fallen asleep as Dean had rubbed his back, and cooed him back to sleep. Both Dean and Sam had closed their eyes, so they hadn't seen John standing in the doorway, a heart warming smile on his face.

That had been the last time Sam had looked peaceful, and John was glad that he was at least relaxed and felt safe now, with both his older brother, and his father in the room, even if he was in the hospital.

Dean watched as Sam closed his eyes, and his father soothing him, had fallen asleep. He had watched as the nurses and doctors had left the room. He had moved to a chair and had watched as his brother rested peaceful, while his father had held his hand; until he had fallen asleep.

TBC

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Thank you so much for the reviews and please continue to push the gay little purple button on your left... 

Thanx, and Take Care...

Ana


	10. Samuel Brian Winchester!

Okay so let me tell you exactly what I think of all of you! I think you all are amazing, and I can't thank you enough for your support through this story!**

* * *

One Week Later:**

"Dean for the last time, I am fine!" Sam yelled, getting impatient as his brother tried to mother him. Both brothers scowled as their father burst out laughing in the corner of Sam's hospital room. 

"You think this is funny?" both brothers shouted at the same time, both of them pointing to Sam's wrist and bandaged stomach. 

"No I don't think Sam getting hurt is funny!" their father said, his tone harsh and serious, but it didn't hold as he burst out laughing again. "But I do think the hissy fits that you two throw, even at twenty two and twenty six, is funny." Sam growled at him, and went to run his hand through his hair, but hissed in pain as his hand brushed over the gash on his head. 

Dean turned to him, and his face was etched in concern once more. "If you even think about going all chick flick on me, I will kick your ass, and then hand you over to a bunch of psychiatrists to drug you, and put you in a white , padded room with a lovely straight jacket to update your style!" Sam said, his voice low, and his tone serious. 

Dean turned white, but tried to regain his composure with, "Seriously Sammy, me chick-flick? Geez, if I wanted to hear an asshole talk I would fart. Ungrateful little prat," Dean said, and then lowly added, "I'm going to get something to eat." Dean walked out of the room, and turned in the direction of the cafeteria. 

"Has he forgot what the hospital food tastes like?" Sam asked, and looked up at the open doorway, as Dean walked past going in the other direction, looking more pale than he had a minute ago. 

"Guess not," his father said, and both laughed. 

"So seriously," Sam started to say, but went quiet for a while after that. It was about fifteen minutes of both Winchesters looking down, that Sam finally said, "Dad, I'm sorry." His voice was small, and John wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been a hunter. 

"Sammy?" John asked, looking up at his youngest son's face. It was riddled with guilt, and it almost broke his heart to see his son in that much pain. 

"If I hadn't been so much of a hard headed asshole, and left for Stanford; mom's killer would have been found by now. Jess wouldn't be dead, and Emma wouldn't have come after me for revenge, and none of this would have happened," Sam said, his voice was low, and his tone carried guilt and sadness. 

John stood up and looked at his son, who looked so much younger and more vulnerable at this moment than he had ever seen him. He put his hand on his son's shoulder, and took his chin in his other hand. John turned Sam's head to look at him, and saw the tears that laced the bottoms of his son's eyes. 

"Sam it wasn't your fault. When you left to go to Stanford, yeah it hurt, but I was happy that at least one of my sons had got to get a try at their dream. As for Jess, that wasn't your fault, and I don't ever want to hear you blame yourself for her death again, do you hear me?" his father asked, his tone hard, and Sam nodded, but John wasn't satisfied with his son's answer. "Tell me, **Samuel!**" his father said, his voice and face menacing. 

"I... I can't do that Dad," Sam said, his voice breaking, and tears ran down his cheeks. His pushed his father's hand away, and turned his face away from the man that had been there for him as best as he could manage for as long as he could remember. 

"Samuel Brian Winchester!" his father growled, but Sam shook his head. 

"It was my fault!" Sam yelled, and his father looked at him, shocked at his outburst. "I dreamt that she died for weeks before she actually died! I knew that something was wrong, and that the dream had some truth to it, because it was so vivid, and I couldn't feel the heat, and smell the blood. I don't remember what happened to mom, so it couldn't have been a mix of that and Jess," Sam said, and took a minute to try and compose himself. "I could have stopped it! The only woman that I ever loved, died... And it's my fault!" Sam yelled, and then broke down. 

John grabbed his son, and pulled him into a hug as sobs wracked the body of his youngest. Sam was a strong man, but when all of the things that had happened to him added up, and stayed hidden inside for so long, any man would have broken under the pressure. Sam shook in his arms, and John felt guilty for his son going through so much pain, and there was basically nothing that he could do to help him, except listen. 

"You couldn't have stopped it Sam," his father murmured as he held his son, and stroked his hair. "It's not your fault, there is nothing that you could have done." His words soothed his son, though all he was trying to do was keep it together himself. 

"I saw her," Sam told him, his tone almost pleading with his father to blame him. Sam had gone through too much in his life, never meeting his mother, because she had been murdered right above him when he was only a baby. Losing his beloved fiance Jess, the same way that he had lost his mother, and blaming himself, because he had a gift that he hadn't known about before it was too late. 

He was hunted by all things supernatural, because he had abilities, and because he hunted them. He had been blamed for the death of his true love, by her sister, and had then been tortured by who would have been his sister-in-law, had Jess lived. And now blaming himself for all of those things, because he had gifts that he didn't know how to handle. 

"It wasn't your fault, and no one but you believes that it was," John said, and Sam clung to him, trying to rid himself of the guilt that was sewn into his mind, but it wasn't that simple. The guilt clung to Sam, like he was clinging to his father. 

John felt a shift in the energy of the room, and turned his head to see his eldest son standing in the doorway looking at them. John kept his arm tight around Sam, and kept rubbing soothing circles on his back. He watched as Dean walked over to them, and grabbed Sam's hand. 

Sam looked up and saw his brother standing there, his face etched in the same concern that it had been earlier, but this time it was welcomed. While he leant into the embrace of his father, who kept holding him, and rubbing his back, Sam grabbed Dean, and felt as his brother hugged him and held his hand. 

"God I feel like a pansy," Sam whispered, and added, "It's my fault and I make you two feel guilty about it." Sam said, and John and Dean both tightened their hold on him. Sam didn't mind, but he knew something was wrong. He didn't day anything, just let them be there for him. 

Both the eldest Winchesters were thinking the same thing... 

_It's going to be a long hard ride, but we will get Sammy back._

_**End**_

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If you want a sequel or not is up to you, and your ability to review! 

...thanks again trickstersapprentice... I really appreciate the job that you do! 

Take Care 

Ana 


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